I'm frightfully randy. Perhaps you might pop over and engage in some, shall we say, vigorous trouser-coughing with my botty for a good long while?

Good heavens, yes, rather! Do carry on, with a spot more vigour. I say, widen my posterior passage to such an extent that the Royal Navy might deem it a suitable port of call.

Oi guvna! Buttah my turnips!

(Somehow my attempt sounds more Bostonian than British).